


Drive

by hyperandrogenism



Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers: Prime
Genre: Abuse, Alien Cultural Differences, Alien Culture, Angst, Child Abuse, Child Neglect, Coming Out, Crushes, Cuddling & Snuggling, Cultural Differences, Depression, Gen, Genocide, Homesickness, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Character Death, LGBTQ Themes, Mental Health Issues, Parent-Child Relationship, Physical Abuse, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Self-Hatred, Trans Character, Trans Female Character, Trans Friendly, Transgenderformers, War, its technically major character death but not major in this verse, optimus is not a good dad
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-08
Updated: 2018-08-17
Packaged: 2019-06-17 17:02:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,232
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15466008
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hyperandrogenism/pseuds/hyperandrogenism
Summary: “You said you would take me and Carrier in if we defected.” His voice lilts up, like a question, but Bumblebee tries to be as sure as he can.“It’s not that easy,” Wheeljack says quickly.“But you said you would!” And Wheeljack did, a long time ago, when he first came to Earth and pulled Bumblebee aside with an excuse of showing him theJackhammerafter he saw Optimus smack him across the audial when he thought they were alone. Before Wheeljack knew therulesof this Autobot outpost.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> [giant ass playlist for this](https://open.spotify.com/user/rlbeemovie/playlist/3FIxBJjMBIJLAWRKkQ3tJM) (same blanket tws, some songs also have tws for prostitution [which this fic wont have], i also high recommend shuffling)  
>  also, [link to the original](https://docs.google.com/document/d/1qeYwNHTiUA2YjrtaR4adj9Nw3QLfF2McLpKyRfhLW8U/edit?usp=sharing) (as far as i got, feel free to download as long as you leave the credit intact and dont repost or redistribute)
> 
> ngl the original was Shit so heres take 2  
> if youve already read the original please dont spoil anything in the comments or anything until like the chapter it happens lol
> 
> one like auish thing is that bee is like,, thousands of years old as opposed to a million plus just because,, im gay
> 
> blanket tw for spousal and child physical, verbal, and emotional/mental abuse. im writing this highkey for coping (very drawn out coping mechanism lol) but i know a lot of things like this arent good for everyone, please dont trigger yourself, even if it is just to get through to the comfort part. the actual abuse is over pretty quick but if anyone needs a summary of chapters they cant read or more specific warnings you can comment here, message me on tumblr (air-commander), or send me an ask (anon is fine). chapters with explicit abuse or any other major things or anything someone has asked for will have warnings in the notes before them.  
> the genocide tag is,,, so far not really a big thing,,, its of the genericons by the autobots/mostly optimus and its not a major plot point or anything and i dont plan on making it a big thing but i figured i should warn for it  
> the coming out (as trans feminine) while it has to be repeated like three times its also very quick every time, not made into a big deal, taken very well by everyone including past love interests, etc so basically its very trans friendly and theres no transphobia at all (without spoiling theres one trans main character who comes out over the course of the story and one background character who is already out)
> 
> so, explicit physical abuse tw and mentions of starvation as abuse + talking about patricide and filicide in the first chapter

When Bumblebee sends a ping to Wheeljack, he knows he’s making a mistake. Knows this entire arrangement is a mistake. Knows he was a mistake. But he flops down on the worn berth pad, and feels his spark soar when he hears a sharp intake from Wheeljack.

“ **Are you okay? It’s been a week,** ” Wheeljack asks, concern bleeding through his voice.

Bumblebee flushes. “ **_Yeah. Sire wasn’t as bad today. He left us alone._ ** ” He leaves out the reason why he hasn’t commed Wheeljack in a week, but Wheeljack has just enough tact to leave it alone. In the semi-awkward moment of silence, Bumblebee decides to jump right in. “ **_You said you would take me and Carrier in if we defected._ ** ” His voice lilts up, like a question, but Bumblebee tries to be as sure as he can. 

“ **It’s not that easy,** ” Wheeljack says quickly.

“ ** _But you said you would!_** ” And Wheeljack did, a long time ago, when he first came to Earth and pulled Bumblebee aside with an excuse of showing him the _Jackhammer_ after he saw Optimus smack him across the audial when he thought they were alone. Before Wheeljack knew the _rules_ of this Autobot outpost.

Bumblebee knows he’s whining, hates that he is, because he knows Optimus would clout him about the helm for it. But Wheeljack won’t hit him, so he presses. “ **_He starves me._ ** ” It’s a fragged thing to pull in an argument, but it’s what he has to do.

“ **He** **_what?_ ** ” Wheeljack almost yells, and Bumblebee flinches, even though it’s the reaction he wanted. “ **I’m sorry, I-I… That’s horrible, but it’s still more complicated than just** **_leaving._ ** **I don’t have enough energon for the two of us—** ”

“ **_Three!_ ** ”

“ **And that’s another thing! There’s not enough room on the** **_Jackhammer_ ** **for you** **_and_ ** **Ratchet, and Ratchet** **_hates_ ** **me. Even if this was possible, it would have to be only you.** ” Wheeljack pauses when he hears a sob. “ **I’m sorry, ‘Bee, but this can’t work.** ”

Pressing his servos to his face, Bumblebee wipes tears away. " **_If it were just me and I brought energon..._ ** " He trails off. He doesn't want to leave Ratchet, but he's always been the ultimate target for Optimus.

" **It's... possible,** " Wheeljack relents, sighing. He rubs a servo against his own helm. " **You'd have to bring a lot of energon. As much as you can fit in your subspace. And... we need to figure out somewhere to go. Somewhere Prime can't find us.** "

Bumblebee nods to himself. " **_Okay. I can do that. I need to talk to Carrier—_ ** "

" **No. He can't know. If he tells Prime anything, this is over. And he could hurt you. We can’t risk that,** ” Wheeljack cautions, spark aching as he says it. “ **I’m sorry, but you can’t tell him.** ”

Another awkward pause, and Wheeljack resets his vocalizer. " **I can pick you up tomorrow. Around midnight, okay? Will you be safe for that long?** "

" **_Yeah._ ** " Bumblebee hangs his helm, drumming his fingers on his thigh. " **_I don't want to leave Raf and Carrier._ ** "

" **You'll see them again. We're going to figure something out, I promise,** " Wheeljack soothes. " **I have to go, but comm. me tomorrow to let me know you're still safe. Don't tell anyone** **_anything._ ** "

" **_I won't,_ ** " Bumblebee promises, and Wheeljack ends the connection suddenly, as is his usual. Once it’s silent, he immediately feels more alone, and wishes he had asked Wheeljack to talk longer. He rubs his servo against an old protoform bruise on his hip. If Ratchet didn’t share a room with Optimus, he would spend his last night with him. But even if Optimus would let him, it isn’t worth it.

The idea of leaving Nevada scares him. Aside from Iacon, it’s the only home he’s ever had. And the only one with friends, especially plural. Bumblebee lies all the way down, sighing.

* * *

 

The second he wakes up, Bumblebee remembers what today is. He shivers. It leaves a bad taste in his mouth, but he sets his shoulders, determined in what he has to do.

Before he heads out to the main room of the silo, he steels himself for what he has to do, knowing that the first thing he’ll see when he walks out is Optimus pretending to be a good Prime, sire, and sparkmate. The idea makes him feel sick. The sound of his pedesteps seems too loud, especially today, and he flinches when he gets close enough to hear the sounds of the rest of the team working.

Bumblebee slips into the medbay, getting only a sharp look from Optimus because Arcee is on monitor duty, and nuzzles into Ratchet’s side. “ _ Good morning, Carrier, _ ” he greets quietly, optics flickering over to where Optimus works at another console.

Ratchet smiles softly, catching Bumblebee in a quick hug. “Good morning, little one. There’s a cube on the berth over there,” he responds. Bumblebee nods, but sends a short text comm. that says simply “ **I need to talk to you.** ” Ratchet doesn’t flinch, continuing in his work. Bumblebee goes to retrieve the cube, and sips it while he dries tools that Ratchet washes. He makes it last, knowing that it’s all the fuel he’ll get until evening.

With their efforts to stay quiet and the relative privacy of the medbay, they can press close as they work, and they take it as a blessing. The work is easy, and over soon, but they linger.

“ **We can talk when Optimus goes out on patrol,** ” Ratchet texts back, touching the small of Bumblebee’s back and giving him another smile. Bumblebee’s doorwings raise a few inches in hope, but he quickly lowers them so Optimus doesn’t get any hints as to what they’re up to.

In the grand scheme of things, it isn’t long before Optimus leaves, but it feels like it drags on forever. A shred of terror pierces Bumblebee’s spark when he realizes that it’s been suspiciously long since he and Optimus had one of their joint patrols where he mysterious came back injured and his sire didn’t. But Optimus finally leaves, alone, and he presses into Ratchet’s side again, getting a quiet chuckle. “Alright, alright,” Ratchet murmurs amusedly, “We’ll go to your room, and then we can talk.”

Once they’re behind a locked door, it all comes spilling out. “ _ I’m defecting. With Wheeljack. He’s taking me in, and he-he told me not to tell you, b-but you’re my carrier, and I want you to come, too, _ ” Bumblebee blurts. He takes a deep intake when he’s done, retracts his facemask, and grins until he sees the look on Ratchet’s face. “ _ We could be safe! We’d be on the other side of the world, and Sire couldn’t find us, and Wheeljack could protect us, and— _ ”

“You’re not leaving,” Ratchet interjects, “Wheeljack’s going to get you killed, I don’t care what he says about protecting you, he’s going to get you both killed and I’m not seeing you die too.” His face goes stony. “I don’t  _ care  _ what Optimus does to us, death is worse, and I’m not letting you die.”

Bumblebee lets his mouth hang open. “ _ But… _ ”

“You’re not leaving and that’s final,” Ratchet chides, “Now, we have work to do, and Optimus will be back soon and he won’t like us hiding together.”

Taking a deep breath, Bumblebee looks up. “ _ You can’t make me stay, _ ” he states, “ _ I’m not-I’m not a sparkling. I’d rather die than stay here. _ ” Tears well up in his optics, and he stands up straight.

Ratchet’s optics soften. “You shouldn’t have told me about this. If Optimus finds out I knew…” he trails off, “If you do this, it won’t affect just you. You haven’t thought this through.”

“ _ Come with us! _ ” Bumblebee urges.

“Then he’ll find someone else! It could be the children!” Ratchet argues.

Huffing, Bumblebee steps past Ratchet to the door. “ _ I’m leaving now! _ ” He dodges Ratchet trying to grab at him, and sprints to the main room, praying that Optimus isn’t back yet and the room is empty. When it is, he transforms and goes directly for the tunnel out, knowing Ratchet won’t chase him and can’t keep up even if he did.

The hot air does nothing to calm his temper, and he’s pushing a hundred and fifty miles an hour when he shoots past Optimus. An intake catches in his vents, but he keeps driving, knowing that Optimus can’t catch him either. When Optimus does make a sharp u-turn, Bumblebee just drives faster.

But with only one cube of energon that morning and a high performance engine, Bumblebee can't keep up that pace, and a ball of terror settles in his tanks as Optimus gets closer and closer and they get farther and farther out in the desert. Out here, Optimus won't worry about humans seeing them. With the last of his energy, Bumblebee puts on a burst of speed, sending frantic pings to Ratchet and Wheeljack in hopes that  _ someone _ can save him.

But no one does. And just before he's about to run out of energon, he slows down.

They both transform, and Optimus leaps onto Bumblebee before he can attempt to run away, smashing him into the dirt so hard a few armor plates crack. A panicked binary screech rings out, before Optimus grabs Bumblebee by the back of the helm and smashes him into the ground. Optimus pulls Bumblebee up, holding him at arm's length. "What do you have to say for yourself?" He doesn’t give him a chance to respond, throwing him back to the ground and kicking him in the stomach. After a minute, Bumblebee grabs at Optimus’s leg, trying to rip at his armor, and Optimus snatches him back up by the neck.

" _ I hate you! _ " Bumblebee screams, tearing at Optimus's arm. He's never fought back before, but he does now, kicking out as hard as he can and trying to pry Optimus's servo off of his neck.

The sound of deep-space engines rapidly approaching makes them both look up. Optimus stiffens, but doesn’t drop Bumblebee or turn, instead squeezing his son tighter until he stops fighting.

" _ Prime, put him down or I blow you up. _ "

When he hears the amplified voice Optimus drops Bumblebee, who scrambles back from him on servos and knees, and turns to see the hovering  _ Jackhammer _ with missiles primed. He frowns.

The  _ Jackhammer  _ settles to the ground and the cargo bay opens, but Wheeljack climbs out of the ceiling hatch and jumps to the ground, aiming a blaster at Optimus. "He's coming with me. Don't move and don't talk. If you try to follow us, I'll kill you," he says evenly, slowly making his way to Bumblebee with a wide berth around Optimus. Bumblebee takes his servo and follows him around to the rear cargo bay of the ship. Optimus doesn’t take his furious optics off them for a second.

Once they're inside and the missiles are trained on Optimus once more, Wheeljack pulls Bumblebee into a quick hug before he slides into the pilot's seat. Bumblebee follows him, settling quietly into the co-pilot's seat. "I got your ping." He gives Bumblebee a sidelong glance after he sets the autopilot. "Why didn't you shoot him?"

Bumblebee's optics cycle wide, and he looks away from the displays that show Optimus becoming smaller in the distance in a burst of speed. " _ I didn't think of it... He's my sire. _ " He looks to Wheeljack, who stares back at him.

After a pause, Wheeljack sighs. "You have to learn not to pull your punches. He's your sire, but he would kill you if he got the chance. You need to get that through your processor." At the horrified expression on Bumblebee's face, he stops. "Look, you got beat up kind of bad. I can patch you up some, but I don't have anything for pain." Wheeljack pulls himself up, and offers Bumblebee a servo.

" _ I'm used to it, _ " Bumblebee says, taking Wheeljack’s servo. He misses the mortified look when he looks down at his own pedes. " _ I'm... low on energon. _ " He hopes Wheeljack won't deny him fuel, even if he does have a limited supply.

"How low?" Wheeljack asks, already rummaging in a cubby.

" _ Five percent. _ "

Wheeljack jerks up, hitting his helm on the ceiling of the cubby and cursing. When he backs out of the small space and straightens up, holding a military-issue first aid kit in one servo, he presses one servo to his spark. "Primus, how are you online right now?" he exclaims. He internally says a prayer that he hasn't even thought of in millennia.

" _ I'm used to it, _ " Bumblebee repeats, shrugging awkwardly.

"I'm giving an energon transfusion. Then you're recharging. No objections, I'm not telling Ratchet I let his creation die." Wheeljack sets down the first aid kit, going back to the shelves to look for a transfusion cord. Bumblebee watches him silently, servos clasped together tightly.

When Wheeljack finds the cord, he grabs the first aid kit and ushers Bumblebee back to the pilot's seat, pulling him into his lap. "I can weld you up while I'm doing this," Wheeljack says, "Open your chest." Bumblebee complies, a little wary of exposing his spark casing, but lets Wheeljack hook up the cord to an energon line before opening his own chest and repeating the process.

It doesn't take long for the transfusion to have a soothing effect, and Bumblebee leans into Wheeljack as he carefully welds together the cracks in his armor and spreads nanite gel over the welds. “ _ You were going to kill Sire, _ ” Bumblebee says a few minutes after Wheeljack finishes welding. It isn’t a question. He keeps his optics forward, resting his helm against Wheeljack’s shoulder.

“If he tried to kill you, yeah,” Wheeljack answers, watching energon flow through the transfusion cord.

“ _ Do you think he would? _ ” Bumblebee asks, looking up at Wheeljack.

“I don’t know.” Wheeljack can’t look into Bumblebee’s optics, so he looks back to the displays.

It isn’t true and they both know it. But eventually, Bumblebee falls into a light recharge, arms looped around Wheeljack’s neck.

When it’s been, Wheeljack unhooks their lines and closes his chest plates. He shifts Bumblebee's weight. "I guess I have to stay here, then," he says to himself, frowning.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> heyyyy this chapter seems kind of awkward to me but idk
> 
> tw for mention of something that borders on suicidal ideation, mention of major character death (not major in this coninuity but major in others), and brief killing, shooting, and violence and maybe very mild and not vividly described gore in the context of war
> 
> edit 8.27.18: i realized just how much wj said "i promise" in this chapter jshdsjfds that wasnt good

When Bumblebee wakes up, he cycles his optics slowly, squeezing Wheeljack’s neck some. It's his restless shifting that wakes Wheeljack up, and he chirps an apology before he even fully boots up, pulling his arms against his chest.

"You're fine, you're fine," Wheeljack murmurs, optics shining a pale blue light over Bumblebee's face in the dark interior of the ship, "What percent are you at now?" 

" _Sixty,_ " Bumblebee answers, dropping his helm to rest against Wheeljack’s chest again. He feels fuller than he has in a long time. " _Can I ask you a question? About home?_ " he asks after a moment. 

Wheeljack raises one servo to cup Bumblebee's helm. His other servo supports Bumblebee's back, and Bumblebee replaces his arms around Wheeljack’s neck. "Of course."

" _ What was it like? _ " His tone is soft and almost mournful, and Bumblebee looks up at Wheeljack.

Wheeljack watches the displays that show the Mexican desert. It's night now, and they're high enough to have a hell of a view. One display shows the sky and the stars surrounding a waning moon. "You were too young to remember much when we left, weren't you?" he says quietly, "Yeah, before the war it was... beautiful. No clouds or rain like Earth. Just the stars and the moons. It got a lot hotter in the day and colder at night. But we had different regions like Earth, we had deserts like this and mountains and forests..." He trails off, seeing Bumblebee staring at him rapturously.

" _What was Iacon like?_ " Bumblebee asks, " _Did you ever go there?_ _Carrier says I was born there but I don’t remember it._ " 

Chuckling, Wheeljack leans his helm back. "Yeah, I went there. Lived there for a while. You know Las Vegas? New York? It puts those to _shame_. Any Earth city can't compare." He looks back to Bumblebee. "We had skyscrapers miles tall. The traffic was hell. The red light districts were—You're still a sparkling, I shouldn't tell you about that." Wheeljack laughs, and it's the first time in a long time Bumblebee's heard a Cybertronian laugh out of anything other than self-pity or misery. "Once this damned war is over... we'll go home, and you'll see it for yourself. Even if it is just the ruins."  

For a minute, Bumblebee lets Wheeljack get lost in his memories. But he still has questions. “ _ Did you know Carrier? Before the war? _ ” He pushes himself up to be even with Wheeljack’s face, optics cycling wider.

Wheeljack knows he’s gotten in too far, yet he still gives in to those big blue optics. “Y-yeah, I did. We went to university together.” He blinks once.

When Bumblebee asks his next question his voice is hushed. “ _ Was he different? Before Sire? _ ”

Giving himself the excuse of gathering his thoughts, Wheeljack takes a minute to answer, even though he knows he probably shouldn’t. “Yeah. He… he wasn’t like he is now.” He snorts. “Not nearly as serious. Or mean. You have a lot of him in you. He used to say he would never settle down, he wanted to be an emergency responder and he wanted to save the world. He was… he was happy.”

Bumblebee sits in silence, thinking about how his view of Ratchet fit with Wheeljack’s. “ _Would it have been better if he had never met Sire? If I had never been born?_ ” he asks softly. 

The question hits Wheeljack like a blow. He _had_ been expecting it, in the back of his processor, but it’s still a surprise. The way Bumblebee’s voice drips with guilt is more than anyone could have prepared for. 

“It’s not your fault,” Wheeljack says eventually, looking Bumblebee in the optic. “I promise, it isn’t.”

Bumblebee looks away. He doesn’t say anything, and he doesn’t need to. 

Eventually, Wheeljack resets his vocalizer and shifts his weight. “We’re coming up on an energon mine, I need more energon.” The _since you didn’t bring any_ is unsaid. “If you don’t wanna help that’s fine,” he offers. 

Bumblebee shakes his helm, face flushing. “ _ I want to stay with you. _ ” He pulls himself stiffly out of Wheeljack’s lap. “ _ I’m sorry. _ ”

Wheeljack looks up at him as he sets the  _ Jackhammer  _ down in a clearing in the jungle. “It’s okay. You had to leave. It wasn’t your fault.” He stands up, putting a servo on Bumblebee’s shoulder. “Come on, let’s go get us some energon.”

Trekking through the thick jungle, unable to transform, is straight from the pits. A few times, they have to stop to pull their pedes out of the thick mud. It takes an Earth hour, but they come up on the edge of the clearing where the entrance to the mine is.

They watch a few miners carrying energon and equipment. Wheeljack switches to sign language, turning to Bumblebee. “ _I’ll go in first, you stay here and cover me._ ” Before Bumblebee can say yes, Wheeljack jumps out of their shelter and is racing across the opening. 

Bumblebee’s never been good at anything close to long distance shooting, but there are a few rocks closer to the mine that he can hide behind. So he follows Wheeljack, and ducks behind an outcrop that’s as close as he dares to get.

It’s not like Wheeljack needs any help, though. He’s shooting down Vehicons faster than they can come at him, and way faster than they can go for help. It’s not five minutes before the fight is over, and Bumblebee comes warily out from behind his rock.

“Thought I told you to stay behind,” Wheeljack says, smirking as he sheathes his swords. “Ready for the real fight?” 

Bumblebee nods, setting his shoulders. “ _Yeah._ ” He follows Wheeljack into the mine. 

The first few miners they come across are easy pickings, and Bumblebee can go to that place in his mind he always does during fights. The place where the nauseous feeling he gets when he kills a Vehicon isn’t as bad. His reflexes are slowed, but he can shoot without crying. And when he has to shoot a miner point-blank in the spark, he only gags twice and Wheeljack doesn’t even notice.

They clear out the mine slowly, methodically, and eventually they’re left shoving energon crystals into their subspaces and piling more into their alt modes. It’s cumbersome, but it’s necessary, and they speed out before anyone can respond to the miner’s distress calls.

Wheeljack transforms and calls the  _ Jackhammer  _ to them. When it appears over the horizon, Bumblebee breathes a sigh of relief. It’s a tight fit to drive into the cargo bay, but once Wheeljack starts the autopilot, he comes back to unload the energon. It goes straight into a converter built into the ship.

All in all, it’s a quick job, for a good payoff. Wheeljack pushes a cube into Bumblebee’s servos. “You need more fuel, now that we can afford it,” he says quietly, “You’re too small. Let’s get some weight on you before anything else.” 

Looking down at his pedes, Bumblebee takes the cube. “ _I’m fine,_ ” he says, but drinks a quarter of the cube in one gulp. 

Wheeljack snorts a somewhat bitter laugh. He goes to sit in the pilot’s chair, and Bumblebee follows him. “We need to figure out where to go next. I’m thinking Siberia.” Wheeljack leans back in his chair. “Snow’s nice. We could have a snowball fight, get mistaken for yetis—”

“ _I don’t like killing Vehicons,_ ” Bumblebee interrupts, “ _They’re not-They’re not drones. Sire made it up. So we would kill them._ ” He chugs the rest of his cube and sets it on the floor with a tremor. “ _I’m not-I won’t do it anymore._ ” He looks up, putting his servos in his lap. “ _I’m sorry, I-I just can’t do it anymore._ ” For a few more seconds, he holds it together, but it isn’t long before a sob wracks his body. 

Wheeljack opens his mouth, then closes it, optics wide. “I’m sorry, I-I had no idea,” he stammers, “I’m sorry.”

Bumblebee takes a shaky breath, looking up at Wheeljack. “ _I want to get away from him. I don’t ever want to see him again._ ” 

“I found one of Ironhide’s boltholes in Kentucky a few months ago. We can go there for now.” Standing up, Wheeljack quickly crosses the floor to grab a blanket from one of the cubbies. Bumblebee watches him closely. When he returns, Wheeljack pulls Bumblebee back into his lap, wrapping the blanket around them both. “We’re going to be okay. We’re going to do something about Optimus, and we’re going to save your carrier.”

* * *

 

Wheeljack comes out of the ship first, cannons raised, with Bumblebee following him closely. Shortly before landing in the very small bay of the bolt hole, Wheeljack had explained something about making sure that no ‘Cons had gotten hold of the place, but Bumblebee thinks he’s just paranoid.

The bay doors close overhead, and they’re in complete darkness except for the glow from their optics and weapons. Wheeljack kicks the door to the next room open, and a motion sensor turns a flourescent light on, revealing…

Nothing.

The room is big by human standards, small by Cybertronian standards, but aside from a dozen or so crates, a few Cybertronian-sized but human-style chairs, and a berth, it’s empty. Wheeljack relaxes, and they both transform their arms back to root mode. It’s only a few feet underground, but it’s damp and lonely.

“ _ What’s in the crates? _ ” Bumblebee asks, going over to pull a crate on the top of the stack open. He stops cold, staring. A bundle of pictures, developed like human photographs, stares up at him. He grabs them.

Wheeljack notices that he’s stopped, and comes over to see what’s wrong. When he sees the picture, he smiles. “I told you, he was happy,” he says, putting one servo on Bumblebee’s shoulder. The first picture is a much younger version of him, cradled by a proudly grinning Ratchet.

Bumblebee doesn’t react, but turns to the next picture. An intake catches in his vents like a sob. In it, Ironhide has one arm around Ratchet, and they’re laughing wildly. Bumblebee retracts his face mask and smiles. “‘ _ Hide and Carrier… they kind of… _ ” He laughs quietly. “‘ _ Hide was a better sire than Sire ever was, _ ” he admits. He slips the picture into his subspace. Wheeljack watches with wide optics.

The next few pictures are along the same lines. Ironhide, Ratchet, and Bumblebee, happy and together before the war got bad enough for them to be forced to leave Cybertron and be seperated. Most go into Bumblebee’s subspace.

One of the last ones makes Bumblebee press a servo to his spark. He does sob, then, a few tears running down his face. The photograph shows Optimus holding Ratchet, both smiling and in love, before he was born. It must be millions of years old, taken by someone long-dead over the course of the war, but he places it into his subspace without showing Wheeljack.

“You okay?” Wheeljack asks softly, rubbing Bumblebee’s back. Bumblebee nods, leaning into him. The rest of the photographs go back in the crate, which is shoved aside. “Yeah, we’ll look through the rest later. That must be Ironhide’s stuff.”

“ _ I wish Ironhide had stayed on Earth, _ ” Bumblebee says, rubbing his optics, and hiccups. “ _ He would… he would have protected me. He never let Optimus do anything to us. _ ”  _ And he would still be alive, _ they both think.

Wheeljack leads Bumblebee across the room and over to the chairs, letting him sit down in one before sitting across from him. “We’re going to try to stay here a while. Maybe a few months. I know a few other places like this, but most of them aren’t in America.” A rat scrambles along the wall and Bumblebee pulls his pedes up a few inches, making Wheeljack laugh. “Yeah, this might not be one of the cleanest ones, but it’s better than living on the  _ Jackhammer _ . Let’s get this place in working order, okay?”

It takes less than half an hour to find the crate with blankets, shake the spiders out of the them, and chase out the vermin. Bumblebee shies away from the few rats they find, so Wheeljack lifts them out of the bay with a laugh. Dust filters down from the lights from their footsteps, clogging up their vents, and they each have a few full-body sneezes that make dust clouds float out of their vents.

When the room is as clean as it can get, they sit down on the berth together. The sheets smell musty, but Bumblebee falls back with his arms out. “ _ I bet there’s bats in the winter, _ ” he jokes, laughing. Wheeljack snorts, leaning back next to him.

They look up at the ceiling for a few minutes, tired after cleaning. Wheeljack smiles nervously. “I want… I want to tell you something.” He looks over to Bumblebee. “I’m transgender. I wanna be called she.”

It takes Bumblebee a second to react. “ _Like Raf?_ _But… the other way?_ ” he replies suddenly.

“Yeah… yeah, I never thought of it like that.” Wheeljack looks back up at the ceiling.

“ _ Okay. _ ” Bumblebee rolls over on his side, laying his helm on Wheeljack’s shoulder.

“You’re just… okay with it?” Wheeljack asks, haltingly putting one arm around Bumblebee.

Bumblebee nods. “ _ Why wouldn’t I be? _ ” He looks up at her, smiling. Satisfied, Wheeljack smiles back.

Their silence is interrupted by Wheeljack’s comm. going off, and she sits up with a frown to take it. She holds one finger up to her lips and projects the comm.

“ **Is Bumblebee with you?** ” Optimus asks, voice low and dangerous.

Wheeljack’s armor flares. “Nice to hear from you, too,” she says neutrally, just catching a defensive growl before it can hit her vocalizer. “I haven’t seen him since the last time I saw you guys. Is he missing?”

Optimus makes an angry noise, and Wheeljack stiffens. Bumblebee quivers beside her, and she takes one of his servos. After a minute, Optimus answers. “ **Yes. If you see him you are to report to me immediately.** ”

“I’m across the country, I really don’t think I’m going to, but sure,” Wheeljack says, and ends the transmission quickly.

Bumblebee presses to Wheeljack’s side, and Wheeljack turns to hug him. “You’re okay. I’m going to protect you, I’m not going to let anyone hurt you,” she whispers, “I’m so sorry.”

Wheeljack’s comm. goes off again, and she growls as she answers it.

“ **Is Bumblebee safe? Are you out of the area?** ”

Bumblebee pulls back from Wheeljack, but sits straight up, optics cycled wide. “ _ Mommy? _ ” he chirps hopefully, “ _ Are you okay? _ ” He makes a few quick Cybertronian signs with his servos, and Wheeljack picks out the rough shape of “Carrier.”

“ **Bumblebee? I’m fine, I’m fine, I’m worried about you two.** ” Ratchet laughs, but it’s strained and painful.

“We’re fine. We’re in Kentucky. We’re safe,” Wheeljack answers, and shoots a look to Bumblebee. “‘Bee, I’m going to go topside and talk to Ratchet, okay? Ping me or yell if you need me.” Bumblebee nods, somewhat stunned, but stays sitting as Wheeljack stands.

After climbing out of the shuttle bay, Wheeljack walks a few feet to get out of earshot. “You’re not okay. What happened?” she asks, leaning against a thick tree.

Ratchet sighs. “ **If Bumblebee finds out, he’ll want to come back. You can’t tell him,** ” he says quickly, voice unsteady.

“I won’t, don’t worry. But we’re at a bolt hole now, I can get you, too, if you want,” Wheeljack says.

“ **I can’t.** ” Wheeljack’s spark falls. “ **The others—They need me, and if I left he could turn on them or the kids, and… I can’t do that to them.** ” Ratchet sucks in a pained vent.

“You’re not… You don’t deserve this. It’s not your fault. Bulkhead and Arcee, they can protect themselves, but you’re not warrior class, you—”

“ **Are you saying I can’t defend myself?** ” Ratchet snaps, “ **I’ve kept myself and Bumblebee alive this long. I think I’ll be fine for a little longer.** ”

“I wasn’t saying that,” Wheeljack protests, standing up and starting to pace. “I was  _ saying, _ that they can take care of themselves too. And you don’t have to do this alone. You don’t even have to come with me. You can tell Arcee and Bulkhead, you can take off on your own, pits, you can join up with the ‘Cons. But you don’t have to just take this.”

Ratchet doesn’t respond, just closes the connection. Wheeljack stops in her tracks, mouth hanging open. 

“ _ Is Carrier okay? _ ” Bumblebee asks, pulling himself out of the shuttle bay. When he sees the look on Wheeljack’s face, he stops. “ _ Is Carrier okay? _ ” he repeats, voice desperate.

“Yeah,” Wheeljack says immediately. It doesn’t convince Bumblebee. “Look, now that we’ve got somewhere to stay, we’re going to get him too.” She walks the few feet to Bumblebee. “He’s tough. He’ll be okay.”

Bumblebee looks down at his pedes, clenching one fist. “ _ I want to take a walk. I don’t—I want to be alone. _ ” He looks back up.

“Yeah, sure, I’ll be around-around here.” Wheeljack watches Bumblebee slip into the woods, vaguely thinking she should follow him. She leans back against her tree, frowning.


End file.
